Colons: Sibling Loyalty
by corneroffandom
Summary: A series of one shots about the Colon brothers, two so far, more to come possibly
1. Subs

Primo Colon knows it's going to be a long evening as soon as he enters he and his brother's shared hotel room to find his crazy-haired brother waiting for him.

"Ah, Primo, there you are!" Carlito says, surging to his feet. "Let's get something to eat now!"

"Wha--?" Primo asks, blinking owlishly as he's grabbed by the arm and dragged back out of the room.

"You haven't ate yet, right? I'm hungry, so let's go!" he grins. A second life had seeped into Carlito since their title win, leaving him happier than Primo had seen him in a long while.

Primo shrugs, he's hungry a lot between wrestling, traveling, and training, so if big brother wants to eat, who is he to complain? "Where we going?"

"Quiznos!" Carlito decides after a minute, and Primo sees the place just down the street from their hotel.

"Oh," he says faintly, a slightly worried frown taking over his face. _This isn't going to end well._

"Why are you so shifty, Primo?" Carlito asks, as he drags his little brother into the sub shop. "You like subs, right?"

"Right, sure."

"Good, good," Carlito mutters distractedly, eyeing the menu. "Wait..."

_Here it comes,_ Primo cringes, clearing his throat. "What?"

"You have a sub named after yourself, PRIMO? Where is Carlito's!?!"

Primo's head drops onto his chest as his brother tirades on. "Carlito. CARLITO! ... Carly!" he continues, when his brother still rants on.

"Can I help you?" a somewhat meek voiced manager comes up, his eyes gleaming with worry as he takes in Carlito's highly agitated state.

"Where is Carlito's sub?!" the somewhat manic wrestler demands, turning to the manager.

"Wha... what?" the manager says, his alarm growing.

Primo is speechless, groaning into his hands as people look around in varying levels of interest.

"Primo has a sub, but not Carlito!" the tag champ continues, flailing an arm at the menu where "Primo Meatball sub" is shown. Twice.

"Uh..."

"Sir?" a soft voice breaks into the conversation, as Carlito and Primo both turn to look at the interrupter- a young girl wearing a Quizno's shirt.

"Yes, what?" Carlito snaps at her, as she gulps a bit at his tone.

"I... I think there's been a mistake, we meant to change the menu, but someone forgot-- you see, the Chicken Carborana is supposed to be called "Carlito's Chicken Carborana"... I'm sorry for the error, sir."

Half the people in the building cross their fingers, while the other half hold their breath, none exactly wanting to see the Quiznos worker chewed out by the wrestler who was nearly three times her size. Primo does a bit of both as his brother glances from the sign to the girl, eyes narrowed in consideration.

"Well, then get that fixed, manager," he orders the fretful looking man, as everyone relaxes and slowly goes back to eating.

"Hey, Carlito, let's eat back at the hotel, eh?" Primo suggests, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment as the girl who saved them all from further rants chances a glance at him, a small smile on her pale face.

"Fine, fine. Let's order Carlito's sub first, huh?"

They're nearly out of the restaurant with two delicious smelling subs when Carlito realizes something. "Hey, manager! Do I get a cut for each sub you sell with my name on it?!"

There's a muffled scuffle as Primo's hand reaches into the doorway and tugs his brother back out. The last thing anyone hears from the two is a loud, "This IS NOT COOL!"

The manager and girl blink dully at each other before she slumps down against the counter and sighs.

The door slams open quickly and Primo runs back in, heading right for the manager who stiffens anxiously. "Hey, promote that girl, huh?! She deserves it!" is all he says, before dashing back out of the door.


	2. Cause and Effect

Primo knows as soon as he stops feeling like he was hit by a train that he's caused his brother his match-- it's blatant from the abrasive, so called music playing, the lack of Carlito cheerfully helping him up, checking him over for injuries.

He reluctantly opens his eyes to find a ref fussing near the ring apron and looks up to find Carlito resting near the ropes, his face screwed up in pain. "Carlito?" he calls, scrambling to his feet. "You ok?"

"Primo," he says, immediately hiding the discomfort he's in. "Carlito's fine. Are you?"

"I'm great," he mutters as the ref aims his attentions to his brother's swelling arm, a frown on his face. "What's wrong?"

"We have to get ice on this right now," the trainer, who had seemingly come out of no where, explains as he takes the ref's place.

"You alright, Primo?" the ref, whose name the youngest Colon brother has forgotten, asks as he passes.

"Yeah, I'm good." His head is swimming- Carlito may be injured and everyone is asking if he is ok. What's wrong with them all?

-----

_"My brother's a jerk, I don't want associated with him at all!" Primo explains to the gaggle of Raw divas who are hanging around-- apparently Carlito was a bit of a playboy, based on the looks of agreement on some of the ladies' faces._

_"Ladies, your segment is up next," a referee calls out to them, and they slowly leave Primo behind._

_"You should not talk about your brother in that fashion," a heavily accented voice full of bravado announces suddenly._

_He turns to find Santino and Beth Phoenix standing behind him, Beth running a hand up and down Marella's bicep quietly. "What's it to you?" he asks, more annoyed than curious._

_"I tag teamed with Carlito; we were very successful, oh yes! All he ever talked of was Primo this, Primo that. Primo and Carlito would make a great tag team, yada yada... As if anyone could be a better partner than Santino Marella!"_

_Beth nods in agreement as Primo gapes after the two._

--------

Primo watches the tape of his brother's match. Examines the look on his face, even reads his lips to see what exactly Carlito said when Primo was knocked over. Sees the truth in Marella's words, feels it deep inside.

He now is sure he hasn't made a mistake by switching brands, didn't screw up when he decided to give his brother a chance.

Carlito's not perfect, but after all, neither is he, and they have these belts now.

It's a start.

"You'll be fine," he promises, resting a hand on his brother's uninjured arm, relieved that the older man has earbuds in and thus can't hear his soft murmurs. "I'll be here."


End file.
